


Privacy

by AtropaAzraelle (Polyoxyethylene)



Series: Of Walls and Nerds [28]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Dirty Talk, Forced Separation, M/M, Phone Sex, guided masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-07 22:39:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14680938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polyoxyethylene/pseuds/AtropaAzraelle
Summary: “I wish you were here,” Gladio said. “I'd strip you out of everything you're wearing and kiss every inch of you.”Ignis breathed before he asked, “And then?”





	Privacy

**Author's Note:**

> I return with our regularly scheduled smut break. Although this bear's the angst tag, it's minimal compared to earlier installments. As always, thank you to everyone who's been reading. You have no idea how much it means to me that so many of you are still here after all this time, and the investment you've put into reading means a great deal. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

“Call me when you can.”

Gladio had done just that, only to get the call rejected. He'd found out why later on that evening. His phone rang, and in a scramble of relief he'd retrieved it only to find Prompto's name on his caller ID. His heart had sunk again, the pain of missing Iggy and not even being able to hear his voice coming back full force.

“Hey,” he'd answered, dully.

“Hey big guy,” Prompto had said, tentative and timid, like someone takng the first step into enemy territory. “How you holding up?”

Gladio had made a non-committal noise and launched into small talk. He was fine, he told him, picked up a hunt out of Meldacio. There were a few more here, so he might stick around for a bit, help clear the area up. Prompto had relaxed and sounded like his usual chipper self until they'd exhausted the small talk, and then his volume fell to a whisper. “Have you spoken to Iggy?” he asked.

“No,” Gladio said. It was all he said.

Prompto heaved a sigh down the phone. “I know you tried calling him earlier,” he whispered, and Gladio found himself wondering if Ignis was in another room. You quickly got to grips with nothing slipping his attention, no matter how quiet you thought you were, but he had to give Prompto kudos for trying anyway.

“You were there?” Gladio asked. It would explain why Ignis had rejected the call; they couldn't exactly speak if other people knew they were. Not right now, anyway.

“Yeah,” Prompto said, his whispering turning into a hiss. “He's heartbroken, big guy. He's trying to pretend he's fine but he's not.” Gladio tried to ignore the clench in his gut at that. Ignis pretending he was fine even when he was churned up inside was something they were all used to, and they all knew how to spot, these days. “I think he really wanted to answer that phone,” Prompto continued. “You should try again.”

“If he doesn't wanna speak to me, I'm better leaving him alone” Gladio said, hating the fact that it felt like a lie even though it wasn't. If Ignis genuinely didn't want to speak to him, if they'd really broken up, Gladio would try and move on, and leave Ignis to do so in peace. They could let each other grieve for what they'd lost. Instead Gladio knew one thing for certain, and that was that Ignis wanted to hear from him as much as he wanted to hear from Ignis.

“But he does!” Prompto said, a little louder, and then immediately fell to a hushed whisper again, “I know he does. I think he's leaning on the fact we're there to keep him strong.” There was a pause over the line, and Prompto's voice became maudlin, “I tried talking him out of it, you know. If you two love each other you should be together.”

“It's never been that simple for us,” Gladio intoned. He recited the mantra he knew by heart; “Duty comes first, always has.”

“You think Noct would want this?”

Gladio felt the question like a punch to the gut. “Duty ain't about what anyone _wants_ , Prompto,” he said. “Some things you just do, because someone has to. Sometimes that someone has to be you.”

“I get that,” Prompto said, quietly, “I do,” he added, “but Noct wouldn't want to put a duty on you that meant you had to give up everything else you care about.”

Gladio sighed. “I know he wouldn't,” he said, “but Noct didn't give me this duty. I'm an Amicitia; it's mine. It goes with the name.”

“And Ignis?” Prompto asked, pushing as only Prompto could. Gladio had visions of the boy in the mine, standing up to him and telling them that it should be Iggy's right to choose. “What was he born into?”

“Iggy was picked for his,” Gladio said, trying to keep the scowl out of his voice, “before I was picked for mine.” Ignis had been six, he'd said. _Six._ Gladio had been seven back then; Iris hadn't even been born, and neither of the incoming Amicitia generation had known the full scope of duty. But Iggy had.

“You said--” Prompto began, confusion bubbling in his voice.

“There's another Amicitia, Prompto,” he pointed out. “It could have been her, but it wasn't. They picked me, and I'm glad they did. It's my duty, and I'm gonna do it. I've always known what it might mean giving up,” Gladio sighed, letting his head drop back against the wooden wall of the Meldacio cabin he was staying in. “Look, I gotta go. I got a long day ahead of me tomorrow and I need some shut eye.”

“Right,” Prompto said. “Just,” he began, and hesitated before pushing himself to continue, “promise you'll keep trying him? I don't want to leave him at the moment, but he's insisting I'm needed elsewhere, and, well--”

“He's right,” Gladio said.

“Yeah,” Prompto said, mournfully. “There's a convoy heading for Hammerhead in a couple of days, and he made me agree to escort it. But Iris runs her shop during the day so there'll be no one here.”

“He might need the space, Prompto,” Gladio said.

“But you could try, right?”

“That doesn't mean he'll answer,” Gladio said, and hated the way that too felt like a lie. “But all right, I'll try him,” he said. “Let me know when you're leaving.”

“I'll try and work on him, soften him up a bit,” Prompto said. Gladio could practically hear the smile.

“No,” Gladio told him, “just leave him.”

“But if I can wear him down--”

“You know what Iggy's like,” Gladio said. “He's suffering enough, don't make it worse. Try and keep him occupied if you can, take his mind off it.”

Prompto gave a defeated sigh. “Sometimes I think you might be too good for him, dude.”

Gladio shook his head, softly. “With the sacrifices Iggy's made, he deserves a lot more than I can give him.”

Prompto gave a small, awkward laugh. “It's not like you to undersell yourself,” he replied, with forced levity.

“First time for everything,” Gladio answered.

He slept that night on a comfortable bed, in a comfortable cabin, alone and unhappy with his thoughts. He missed Ignis, missed him with an intensity he'd never felt every other time they'd been apart. They'd been separated before, when Gladio was escorting supplies, or refugees, or defending a town's borders, or Ignis had been snooping through a tomb the Astrals only knew where.

This was different. This time he couldn't just call, and this time he wouldn't be going home to Ignis's welcoming arms and the scent of his cooking. It was lonely, and even though he spent an hour slowly flicking through the hundred pictures on his phone, the loneliness didn't shift. He had pictures of Iggy, before he was blind, lost in a game of solitaire, or smiling at the stars in the sky, pictures Iggy hadn't known were being taken and where he'd looked young and beautiful.

There was one picture he'd looked at for a long time. He'd taken it back in Insomnia, before everything had gone to hell, before they'd confessed to the rest of the world that they were together. It was Ignis, sleeping, his hair down across his forehead, his cheek tucked into the pillow. His lips were slightly parted, and Gladio remembered how the tiniest, most delicate snores he'd ever heard come from another human being had come from Ignis.

He'd taken it as proof that Ignis slept, but looking back, it had been the start of it all, for Gladio. They'd spent a few dozen nights together by then. Gladio had woken to the smell of coffee and an empty bed every time. But that morning had been different.

Ignis had looked so peaceful, and young. His bare shoulder peeked out from beneath the sheets, and neither of them had dared to broach the subject of the L word, let alone breathe it in the other's earshot, but that, all the way back then, had been when the idea that he might be falling in love had hit Gladio like a punch to the jaw. He'd been into Ignis for months. He'd flirted his hardest with him and got nowhere, so he'd written Iggy off as straight and got on with enjoying a friendship that included sparring, massages, and as much flirting as Gladio liked.

His head had spun the day Iggy kissed him. Time had seemed to slow down and Gladio's brain had betrayed him, uttering nothing but white noise while his heart had jackhammered in his chest. It had been the sight of Ignis preparing to flee like a frightened rabbit that had kicked his brain into gear just in time to catch him. Just in time to keep him.

He'd been lost in a whirlwind months later. He'd eased open the doors on Iggy's sexuality, finding enthusiasm but not much experience, and he'd taken Iggy through the steps of finding out what he enjoyed. 

Then Iggy had shown him what he'd learned. He'd been hard to keep up with sometimes, the twists and turns had sent Gladio's mind spinning as surely as that first kiss. Ignis had tied him up and tormented him until he'd begged, or grabbed him for an impromptu grope in the middle of the day, and every time he'd worn that self satisfied smile of a job well done.

Gladio had loved it, he'd loved every second of those early times when they'd barely gone a night without doing something.

But it had been the moments like he'd captured in that picture that had made him fall. He hadn't said it, at the time, and neither had Ignis, but he'd been falling, and hard. The sex was amazing, but it was waking up in the morning to find Ignis still there, half dressed, messy haired, and minus his glasses that Gladio had started to look forward to. That was when he'd known that he was done for, that he was happy, and that he was going to have to fight to keep it.

He'd fallen asleep with that picture on his phone, and the next day he'd gone out to scout for his daemonic mark. The daemon populations were increasing, just as surely as the light was waning, but most of them weren't dangerous enough to be marks. The problem was that they were drawn to light. Or maybe they were drawn to the life that they knew hid behind the light. Once upon a time you couldn't travel a road at night without running into daemons, like they knew where people would be, and waited for them. Now you couldn't venture out of an outpost without running into a pack of them, like they knew where the people were.

They might be weak, but in large enough numbers they still posed a problem, and the red giants with their flaming swords were a pain in the ass at the best of times, let alone when they came with half a dozen smaller, faster friends.

His mark hadn't been there the first day, and it wasn't there the second either, but it'd be back if he just had the patience to wait. He returned from a second day of useful, but not exactly fruitful daemon culling to the same little wooden cabin. Dave was always off with the supply lines, now, escorting increasingly surly and careworn drivers from one outpost to another, carrying weapons out of Meldacio, and medicines and other supplies, including the raw materials for weapons, back in. Technically, the cabin was his, and practically it was Ezma's. She had kept boxes of flowers on the sills and out front, and now she kept a solid grip on hunt assignments, and living arrangements. Nobody paid for food any more here, so long as they hunted. Anyone that brought back a cut of meat, or fish was welcome to the table, and if anyone managed to find living vegetables, or raw wheat, or a sack of rice they were greeted with extra enthusiasm.

Everyone slept for free, too, provided they worked. The only things you had to pay for were weapons and clothing; things the hunters needed to make from materials shipped in. Now Ezma's boxes of soil were barren, the dying sunlight having taken the flowers with it. They sat as a testament to the dark times, but, she said, they'd sprout once more with the new dawn. Life could cling on in the darkness, so long as you didn't give up on it. He tried to remember that every time he passed by an empty box of soil. There was life inside, clinging to hope, just like himself and Ignis.

He was ready for a shower when his phone rang. He was all set to ignore it and return the call later, expecting it to be Prompto, or Iris, or Cor, but when he picked up his phone to reject the call he saw the name on his display.

 _Iggy_.

It took him two attempts to answer the call, his fingers fumbling on the swipe screen in his haste. “Hey Iggy, you okay?”

He heard the sigh of relief on the other end, even though he'd bet a decent steak that Ignis hadn't meant for him to hear it. “I am now,” he said. “I'm sorry I couldn't take your call,” he began.

“It's cool,” Gladio said, closing his eyes and letting the sound of Ignis's voice wash over him. The phone never quite sounded right, but Iggy's clipped accent was music to Gladio's ears. “Prompto called me; I know he was there.”

“He's barely left me alone,” Ignis said, in tones that dripped with apology.

Gladio smiled into his phone and glanced around, finding himself a comfortable spot on the bed to take a seat while he talked. “You shouldn't be alone,” he answered. “He's only looking out for you.”

“I know his heart's in the right place,” Ignis began, “but I don't require caring for.”

“Iggy,” Gladio said, hearing how fond his own voice sounded and hoping Ignis would pick up on it too, “don't begrudge other people worrying about you for once, all right?”

There was a second's silence, and Gladio thought he could hear Ignis relaxing into a chair himself, or perhaps he was sitting on a bed. “I don't begrudge it,” he answered, “I just don't deserve it.”

“Yeah you do,” Gladio argued. “People wouldn't worry about you if you didn't deserve it.”

“They only think that because none of them are in full possession of the facts,” Ignis replied. There was a creak of something in the background that sounded like it might be a mattress. “How are you, anyway?” he asked. “I trust you're safe?”

“Yeah, I'm safe,” Gladio confirmed. “Holed up in a cabin in Meldacio. The cook here ain't a patch on you.”

“You may be biased,” Ignis said, and Gladio could hear the smile in his voice. He'd always thought that Ignis was making it up when he said he knew when people were smiling as they talked, but he could hear it now. There was a slight twist in the words, a lilt and a softness in the tone that would only sound natural if Ignis was smiling into his phone.

“Or spoilt,” he countered.

“Definitely spoilt,” Ignis agreed, and that lilt was still there, sending a warmth through Gladio's chest. He wanted, more than anything, to reach through the phone and tug Ignis into his arms, to see the smile on his face, to kiss it from his lips. “Although if you still insist on calling cup noodles your favourite food, I have a ways to go.”

Gladio laughed. “As long as you take it as a challenge, I'm gonna say they're my favourite.”

“Using my competitive nature against me?” Ignis asked.

“Who's the guy that wouldn't just show Noct pictures of Tenebraen desserts because he was determined to figure it out on his own?” Gladio pointed out, grinning broadly at the memory. Ignis had made that dessert hundreds of times over the years, and had reacted to Gladio's suggestion that he just look them up on the internet with horror. Suggesting he ask Noct to ask Lunafreya what the mystery recipe was had been met with utter indignation. To ask was to surrender, Ignis had said. He wouldn't admit defeat.

He also remembered the delight on Iggy's face, that sense of accomplishment and victory that had stolen over him the day he'd finally figured it out. It had taken years of trial and error, and then, finally, he'd nailed it. It had been like watching Iggy the day he'd first used Sagefire; the elation at that first success had been beautiful, and watching Iggy in action had been mesmerising.

“I suppose I must concede the point,” Ignis said, but Gladio could still hear that hint of a smile in the words.

“You never concede,” Gladio said, “you just go around to come at something from behind instead.”

“As if your own dogged determination isn't legendary,” Ignis answered. Gladio heard something shift in the background again. It sounded a little like Ignis was making himself comfortable.

“I wore you down, didn't I?” he asked, with a grin.

“Gladiolus Amicitia,” Ignis replied, his accent clipped and crisp enough to send a shiver through Gladio's spine, “when have you ever worn me down?”

Gladio didn't want to bring up the months of rampant flirting it had taken for Ignis to finally make a move. It sounded good right now to hear Iggy, to hear him relaxed and happy, the way he would if they were sharing a room and not just a phone call. “What about out?” he offered, his voice going low and suggestive.

“Again I ask; when?”

Gladio grinned broadly into his phone. “I can think of a few times.” He could think of more than a few if he put his mind to it. “How about the first time I got you on your front?” he offered. “The way you moaned into those sheets, Iggy. I can still hear it,” he added, closing his eyes. He could remember the sight and sound of Ignis, rolling his hips up to meet Gladio's, his face pressed into the bed, mouth open against the sheets. It was still one of Gladio's favourite positions for a long, slow fuck.

Ignis gave a soft murmur on the other end of the phone, and Gladio heard him inhale a slow, steadying breath through his nose. “Yes, I suppose I have to grant you that one,” he agreed, his voice low, and soft.

“You couldn't even talk afterwards,” Gladio pointed out, his grin returning with a vengeance.

“Nor,” Ignis said, “could you.” He heard Ignis heave a breath again, and a sound that might have been Iggy settling back against a bed. “You wore yourself out. I didn't think you were ever going to stop,” he said, softly.

“I didn't want to,” Gladio admitted, his eyes closed as he lost himself in the memory. “You felt so good. Looked it too. You always do when you're right on the edge.”

Ignis gave a hum of consideration. “Is that why you like to take your time and torture me?”

“Pot and kettle, Iggy, at least I've never left you tied to the bed while I went to get a drink.”

Ignis's laughter on the other end of the line was musical. “I made it up to you,” he said, when he was done.

“Took your sweet time about it,” Gladio countered, with faux-grumpiness. “You've always liked making me squirm.”

“I believe the phrase 'two can play at that game' applies,” Ignis pointed out. 

Gladio could hear the private little smile twisting the words. He could picture Iggy, cradling his phone against his ear, nestled back on the bed, his shirt a little bit open, the way he always wore it. “I wish you were here,” he said. “I'd strip you out of everything you're wearing and kiss every inch of you.”

Ignis breathed before he asked, “And then?”

Gladio swallowed. He was getting hard just thinking about being able to do whatever he wanted to Iggy. “I'd spend all night with you,” he said. “I'd take you to the brink as many times as I could until you begged me to let you come.”

“I'll hold you to that,” Ignis promised.

“You won't,” Gladio said, “because I'll be holding you against the bed.”

Ignis gave a soft huff of laughter, and Gladio heard what had to be a bed creak beneath him as he moved. “Tell me what you're wearing?” he asked.

Gladio opened his eyes to look down at himself. His erection was already starting to strain against the front of his trousers. “My Crownsguard fatigues,” he answered. “The leather jacket, and trousers. My belt's already open.”

“Do you have a shirt beneath the jacket?” Ignis asked, his voice delicate. He was probably trying to build the image in his mind, Gladio thought.

“Nah,” Gladio answered, with more than a hint of amusement. “Me and shirts don't get along, remember?”

“All too well,” Ignis said. Gladio heard what might have been Ignis biting his lip and releasing it, or might have been him licking his lips. “Run your hand over your stomach and up to your chest,” he said. “I want you to slide your jacket off.”

Gladio felt his dick give a throb. “I'm gonna put you on speaker,” he said, not waiting for Ignis's confirmation before he pulled his phone away from his ear and hit the speakerphone icon.

“Tell me what you can feel,” Ignis instructed, as Gladio laid the phone on the bed.

He started from his belt, running his fingers up over the firm muscles of his stomach. “My skin's warm,” he said, with a bit of a smile, “my hands are a bit cold.”

“I want you to trail your fingers around each of your abdominal muscles,” Ignis said.

Gladio did as he was told, running a couple of fingers in the lines between his muscles. He could trace the swell of each one, and the valleys between them by touch alone. “Is my skin always this soft?” he asked.

“It is there,” Ignis said, with a slightly faraway tone, as if he was as lost in the memory of Gladio's body, “and your muscles go hard when they flex.”

Gladio grinned, both at Ignis's tone, and his description. “You know me like the back of your hand,” he said.

“I know you better than the back of my hand,” Ignis replied, and there was a fondness to his voice that could only have come from a soft smile. “You're rather more fun to touch, after all.”

Gladio gave a small laugh, and smoothed his fingers up over his chest, catching at his nipple as he did. “All right,” he told Iggy, “working my way up now. I'm running my fingers around my nipple like you do when you're thinking about what to do to me next.” He traced the outer edge of the soft flesh with his fingertip, feeling it tighten and harden under the attention.

“Good,” Ignis said, distantly. “Very good. Brush your thumb over it for me?” Gladio did as he was asked, and gave an approving murmur at the sensation. It wasn't a sharp jolt of pleasure, but it felt nice anyway, nice enough to make him wonder, not for the first time, if it might be improved with a piercing or two. “And now,” Ignis said, “I want you to press your hand flat against your chest and slide it up under your jacket.”

Gladio kept his eyes closed as he followed Iggy's instruction, passing his whole palm over his pectoral muscle, dragging it over his nipple as he did. He followed the line up, smoothing over his collarbone and slipping his fingers underneath the leather of his jacket and onto his shoulder. “It's pretty hot under this jacket,” he said. “My skin feels like it's on fire. Or maybe that's because of you.”

“You always have been hot stuff, Gladio,” Ignis retorted. “Now, take the jacket off and drop it on the floor.”

Gladio sat up to obey that instruction, taking his time as he slid the warm leather down his arms and off his hands. The leather sounded heavy as it shifted, and he exaggerated his movements a little so that Ignis could hear it as he took the jacket off. When it was off his arms he held it out to the side and let it drop onto the floor with the dull thud of heavy material collapsing on itself.

“Very good,” Ignis said. Gladio heard him breathe in, and then out before he spoke again. “You said your belt's already open? I want you to open your trousers for me, and push them down past your knees.”

Gladio gave a grin. “Ignis, all business,” he teased, as he undid the zip holding his trousers closed and pushed the leather, and his boxers, down as Ignis had instructed. “Underwear's down too,” he said.

“Are you hard?” Ignis asked.

Gladio didn't need to look down to see the answer; he could feel it, the throb and _presence_ of his engorged cock was impossible to ignore. He looked down anyway, seeing his cock reaching for the ceiling, proud and thick as it jutted out of the dark curls of his groin. “After thinking about the ways I'm going to fuck you?” he asked. “Yeah, I'm hard.”

“Stroke yourself for me,” Ignis said, quietly. Gladio wrapped a hand around his cock, enjoying the feeling of a cool hand around the hot flesh. He gave it a couple of quick strokes, feeling the relief as his dick finally got some attention. “Slowly, Gladio,” Ignis chastised. “I can hear your every movement. You won't last long at that pace.”

Gladio gave a chuckle. “You don't know how long it's been,” he pointed out. “I might not last long anyway.” He slowed down, however, taking his time as he ran his hand along his full length.

“You'll last as long as I tell you to,” Ignis replied, with a purr of seductive amusement that sent pleasant shivers all through Gladio's cock, and over his skin.

“In that kind of mood, are you?” he asked, without really meaning to. He loved when Ignis got bossy, and loved it more when Ignis's bossiness came through as dominating. Nobody had ever made Gladio's resolve crumble as fast as Ignis could when he got like this. His accent only made it better, too.

Ignis hummed his confirmation, and then said, “Put two fingers in your mouth. I want you to suck them.”

“Gonna be hard to talk to you with my mouth full,” Gladio pointed out.

“Good. If I was there, it wouldn't be your fingers in your mouth,” Ignis replied, and Gladio was sure he could hear a smirk on the end of the sentence.

His cock throbbed in his hand, but he ignored it, keeping up his slow and steady stroking as he eased his fingers into his mouth and sucked on them gently. If it was Iggy's cock he'd run his tongue over it first, and then take him in, and all the way down his throat, right from the off. Iggy always went weak at the knees for that, although he pretended like he didn't. For now he had to use his fingers as substitute, and he wet them thoroughly with his tongue as he sucked.

“Bend your knees,” Ignis said, sounding a little more strained than he had. Gladio wondered if Ignis was jerking himself off too, or if he was just hard as nails and trying to hold back. “Keep your legs apart.” Gladio did, groaning a little as he stroked himself in this new position. He knew what Ignis was going to have him do with his fingers and the idea made his toes curl and his fingers tighten around his cock. “Now take your fingers from your mouth and tease yourself with them.”

“Tease where?” Gladio asked, with a note of mischief, already sinking his hand down between his legs and finding the cleft of his ass. His balls were tight, and he ran his thumb over them as he slipped his hand down.

“Where would you want my fingers?” Ignis asked. His voice was becoming low and melodic, a sure sign that he was settling into his own fantasy as he listened to Gladio. They were building the shared experience together, and the notion, and sound of Ignis enjoying it, brought a smile to Gladio's face.

“My ass,” Gladio said. “Like you were getting ready to give me the blowjob of a lifetime, or fuck me.”

“Or both,” Ignis agreed. Gladio inhaled sharply, his eyes rolling up into his head as he considered that one. They could start off sucking each other off, and end with Ignis bending him in half and nailing him to the headboard. “Are you still stroking yourself?” Ignis asked. “I want you to press your thumb into the groove at the head, carefully.”

Gladio did, sliding the pad of his thumb along and into the slit as he brought his hand up to the head. He hissed with the pleasure, and smeared the slick precome that came out over his cock as he stroked back down again. He repeated the action when he brought his hand back up, matching it with the way he teased his middle finger against his rim.

“Now run your hand all the way down your shaft,” Ignis began.

“Say it for me, Iggy?” Gladio asked. Ignis swore so rarely, and said words like ass and cock even less. It meant that every time he did it sent a shiver up Gladio's spine.

“Do as you're told,” Ignis replied, “and perhaps I will.”

Gladio grunted. He had to work for it; he always did. “Fine,” he said.

“All the way down,” Ignis said, “and I want you to squeeze a little tighter as you stroke back up.”

Gladio did, running his hand right down to the curls of hair at the base of his cock. He shifted his grip, tightening a little before he dragged his hand back up over the flesh, pleasure shooting through his cock as he did. He groaned, making sure to let Ignis hear his satisfaction. “Fuck, that's good.”

Over the sound of his own flesh, Gladio wasn't sure if he could hear something similar coming from Ignis's end of the conversation. There might be, he thought. He couldn't be sure. “How do you want it, Gladio?” Ignis asked, after a brief pause. “Slow and tortuous, lasting all night?” he suggested, his voice low and so intimate he could have been talking directly into Gladio's ear. “Or do you want me to let you come?”

Gladio squeezed his eyes shut as tightened his grip around the head of his cock as he listened to Iggy say the word 'come'. Iggy was in his groove now, and he was fucking incredible when he was relaxed and confident like this. “Both,” he answered.

The answer earned him a soft chuckle that warmed Gladio's heart as surely as it sent a spike of longing through his dick. “Perhaps next time,” Ignis replied. “Now stroke yourself for me, I want you to touch every inch of your length as you do, and press one of your fingertips into yourself.”

Gladio swallowed. “How quickly?” he asked. Was Iggy after the slow and tortuous? Gladio hadn't exactly made the call.

“Start slow,” Ignis said, “and build in speed. I want to hear you getting breathless.”

Gladio hissed as he followed the instruction. The slow movement of his hand was delightful, but it was the coiling pleasure in his gut that made him groan. “Are you touching yourself?” he asked.

“Wouldn't you like to know?” Ignis replied, low and teasing.

“Yeah,” Gladio answered. He was sure, if he listened, that he could hear the soft and steady slap of skin coming from Ignis, but it was hard to tell over his own noises. “Are you?”

“Yes.”

Gladio felt his skin prickle all over at the answer, his dick giving an approving throb. “Fuck,” he groaned.

Now that he knew Ignis was jerking off to the sounds of him jerking off, Gladio could hear the little pauses and stutters in Iggy's breathing. “Press your cock to your stomach, Gladio,” he said. “I want you to use your whole hand to stroke it. Can you feel how big you are?”

Gladio ran his palm and fingers along the underside of his cock, pressing it against his belly as he did. He had big hands, but like this, his cock felt even bigger. He ran his hand down the length, his palm catching against the head once more, and the firm flex of his abs pressed against his cock sending pleasurable ripples through his groin. “Yeah,” he answered. “Fuck, I wanna come,” he said. “I love it when you say cock.”

He heard Iggy's amused noise in response, and the pleasured gasp that followed it. “Take your cock in both hands for me, Gladio,” Ignis told him. “I want you to stroke up from the base, all the way to the head. Use your thumbs to brush over the head for me, and then stroke back down.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Gladio replied, with feeling. “Is that what you're doing?”

Ignis gave a soft gasp before he said, “Yes. Do it with me?”

Gladio did, withdrawing his fingers from his ass with a little regret that quickly faded as he encircled his cock in both hands. His hands were warm now, but his cock felt hotter, and he stroked the soft skin firmly, all the way up. “I am,” he said. “Fuck this feel good,” he added, running his thumbs over the head of his cock one after the other before he used both hands to run back down again.

“Keep going,” Ignis said. Gladio could hear his shortening breath, and the urgency behind the quiet plea.

Pleasure was building in Gladio's groin. It was starting to take more effort to hold it back. “Iggy, I'm gonna--” he warned.

“Wait for me?” Ignis asked, his own voice sounding thick with restrained pleasure.

“Iggy,” Gladio warned again, squeezing the base of his cock as he stroked down again to stave off his orgasm for another stroke.

“I know,” Ignis said. He sounded close, but not as close as Gladio was. Gladio was fighting against coming with every stroke now, and Iggy wasn't quite there yet.

“When I get you alone,” Gladio growled, turning his head towards the phone, his breath short as he stroked himself, “I'm gonna make you sit there and follow my instructions. I'm gonna watch you get all worked up for me, until you're begging me to let you finish.”

Ignis gave a choked, pleasured noise. “Is that a promise?” he asked. He sounded like he was teetering on the brink.

“Yeah,” Gladio said, his voice thick and heavy with lust, “because when you beg, that's when I'll flip you over and fuck you into the bed. I'm not gonna let you touch your own cock, Iggy. You're gonna come just from mine.”

Ignis gasped over the phone, and Gladio gave his own groan in answer. His hands worked quickly, the air filled with the sound of skin against skin. He was inches from toppling over the edge, and he wanted Ignis right there with him when he did. “That sounds like a challenge,” Ignis said, his voice strained.

“I can hear you now,” Gladio growled. “You're on the edge, aren't you?”

“Yes.”

“I'm gonna come inside you, Ignis,” Gladio growled, “as many times as I can.”

He heard the catch and gasp of Ignis's voice, and the strain as he said, “Come for me, Gladio?”

Gladio stopped holding back, orgasm rushing up on him and shooting through his cock, spattering his hands with pleasure as he listened to the unmistakeable sound of Ignis coming from the other end of the phone. He heard Ignis drop back against the bed a second after he did, and he heard the heavy breathing of his recently sated lover.

“I love you, Iggy,” he said, softly. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Ignis replied, and it sounded like he was whispering. The words were fond, and soft, and Gladio wanted nothing more than to scoop Ignis into his arms and hold him for the rest of the night, clean up be damned. “You realise you just made a lot of promises you're going to have to keep?”

Gladio chuckled, softly. If he kept his eyes closed he could imagine Ignis was there, rolled on his side, turned to face him, his skin flushed and breath short. “I never make a promise I don't intend to keep, you know that.”

In Gladio's mind's eye, the Ignis lying opposite him on the bed smiled. “Good.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr at [AtropaAzraelle](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/atropaazraelle) where I also post prompts that don't make it to AO3, fic recs, and pictures.


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